BooksBarbecue
Back The Lollipop Shoes
Chapters (96)
  1. Cover
  2. About the Book
  3. The Lollipop Shoes
  4. Dedication
  5. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
  6. PART ONE
  7. 1
  8. 2
  9. 3
  10. 4
  11. 5
  12. PART TWO
  13. 1
  14. 2
  15. 3
  16. 4
  17. 5
  18. 6
  19. 7
  20. 8
  21. PART THREE
  22. 1
  23. 2
  24. 3
  25. 4
  26. 5
  27. 6
  28. PART FOUR
  29. 1
  30. 2
  31. 3
  32. 4
  33. 5
  34. 6
  35. 7
  36. 8
  37. 9
  38. PART FIVE
  39. 1
  40. 2
  41. 3
  42. 4
  43. 5
  44. 6
  45. 7
  46. 8
  47. 9
  48. 10
  49. 11
  50. 12
  51. PART SIX
  52. 1
  53. 2
  54. 3
  55. 4
  56. 5
  57. 6
  58. 7
  59. 8
  60. 9
  61. 10
  62. 11
  63. 12
  64. PART SEVEN
  65. 1
  66. 2
  67. 3
  68. 4
  69. 5
  70. 6
  71. 7
  72. 8
  73. 9
  74. PART EIGHT
  75. 1
  76. 2
  77. 3
  78. 4
  79. 5
  80. 6
  81. 7
  82. 8
  83. 9
  84. 10
  85. 11
  86. 12
  87. 13
  88. 14
  89. 15
  90. 16
  91. 17
  92. 18
  93. 19
  94. Epilogue
  95. About the Author
  96. Also by Joanne Harris

‘I know you’re trying to help,’ I said. ‘But we can manage on our own . . .’

She raised an eyebrow.

‘You know what I mean.’ I couldn’t quite say it. Instead I touched a chocolate box, traced a mystic spiral on the lid.

‘Oh, I see. That kind of help.’ She looked at me curiously. ‘Why? What’s wrong?’

‘You wouldn’t understand.’

‘Why not?’ she said. ‘We’re the same, you and I.’

‘We are not the same!’ My voice was too loud, and I was shaking. ‘I don’t do those things any more. I’m normal. I’m boring. Ask anyone.’

‘Whatever.’ It’s Anouk’s favourite word at present – punctuated by that whole-body shrug that teenage girls use to signify disapproval. It was deliberately comic – but I didn’t feel like laughing.

‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘I know you mean well. But children – they pick these things up. It starts as a game, then it gets out of hand.’

‘Is that what happened? Did it get out of hand?’

‘I don’t want to talk about it, Zozie.’

She sat down beside me. ‘Come on, Vianne. It can’t be so bad. You can tell me.’

And now I could see the Kindly Ones; their faces; their grasping hands. I could see them behind Zozie’s face, hear their voices, coaxing, reasonable and so very kind—

‘I’ll manage,’ I said. ‘I always do.’

Oh, you liar.

Roux’s voice again, so clear that I almost looked for him. There are too many ghosts in this place, I thought. Too many rumours of other-when, other-where, and worst of all, what-else-might-have-been.

Go away, I told him silently. I’m someone else now. Leave me be.

‘I’ll manage,’ I repeated, with the ghost of a smile.

‘Well, if ever you need me . . .’

I nodded. ‘I’ll ask.’

6

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Monday, 26th November

SUZANNE WASN’T IN school again today. She’s supposed to have flu, but Chantal says it’s because of her hair. Not that Chantal talks to me much, but since I made friends with Jean-Loup, she’s been nastier than ever, if that’s at all possible.

She talks about me all the time. My hair, my clothes, my habits. Today I wore my new shoes (plain, quite nice, but not Zozie) and she went on about them all day, asking me where I’d bought them, and how much they’d cost, and sniggering (hers are from some place along the Champs-Elysées, and I don’t believe even her mother would have paid that much), and asking where I had my hair cut, and how much that cost, and sniggering again—